Hate, Like & Love
by koder
Summary: AU. At a ball held by King Roderich, you run into someone whose reputation you hate. Could this be changed by the meddling of Queen Elizaveta? ReaderXPrussia.


**This story was requested by Jinxed-Wolf on deviantART.**

**It's the first time I've ever written a reader pairing story.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia.**

* * *

><p>King Roderich was holding a ball. An incredibly posh one, with everyone in old fashioned gowns and suits, you were no exception. But frankly, this was rather overwhelming, the higher members of society were all here, everyone you had to associate with to get somewhere in life. Everyone had a title, including yourself, although it was of much lower rank than most of the other guests.<p>

You'd had several people up, asking you to dance, and you refused every one of them, although one didn't seem to accept your refusal.

"May I have this dance?" he asks, taking your hand and giving it a gentle kiss.

"I am afraid I shall have to refuse, Duke Beilschmidt," you answered, "I do not wish to dance at present." You lie. This man has a bad reputation with lovers, and you don't wish to be another notch on his bedpost.

"But my dear, how could you refuse me? I'll make it worth your while." You're completely shocked at his vulgar language. Noblemen should not speak that way! You lift your hand and strike him across the face.

The sound makes a resounding crack, and the whole room turns towards you and the red-faced Duke. You, still furious, storm out of the room, unknowing of his eyes following your every move lovingly.

It's cold outside, and you wish you'd picked some thicker formalwear. It's a bit lonely out here, but it's quiet, and you sigh contentedly. The music continues inside, all of the guests unaware of your departure.

Except for one it seems, who is tugging on your sleeve, trying to get you to face them. It works.

"Duke Beilschmidt-" you begin, only to realise someone completely different is standing before you. Someone of very high rank and importance.

"Your majesty!" you exclaim in embarrassment, curtsying deeply, "My apologies, I-" you are interrupted with cheerful laughter. Queen Elizaveta wasn't stuck up in the slightest. She was even wearing a surprisingly simply dress to show her distaste for such things.

"Why did you leave the party?" She asks.

"Duke Beilschmidt." You answer simply. She nods in understanding.

"He may seem a bit… perverted, but he has good intentions underneath. Trust me." You look at her, unsure.

"Now come on back into the party. You won't have any fun out here," you shake your head. You don't want to face _him_ again.

"Your highness… with all due respect, I'd rather not…"

"Please?" she says it so sweetly, you give in, letting her drag you back into the ballroom. The music stops suddenly, and you see a blonde, slightly angry looking man mount the podium at the front of the room. Duke Vash Zwingli, a noble said to be richer than the king himself. He clears his throat.

"Lades ad gentlemen," he begins, "We will now commence our traditional final dance. Please finda new partner, preferably someone you haven't danced with yet. On behalf of the King and Queen, I hope you have all enjoyed the evening."

You look around. You haven't danced with anyone yet, so you can dance with anyone you want. But who to choose? There's so much pressure. The Queen seems to sense your distress.

"Having trouble sweetie? Don't you worry, I'll pick someone nice for you," you smile, relieved, until you find out who she's picked for you. You want to scowl, but you know better than to scowl at a queen, even an overly nice one.

"You know Gilbert, don't you?" She asks sweetly, pretending not to know about the anger coming off you in waves. You nod stiffly. Duke Beilschimdt looks rather afraid, as if he thinks you're going to hit him again. He holds out his hand for you to take, and you do, begrudgingly.

The music starts once more, and the Queen leaves to search for a partner herself. An awkward atmosphere settles around you and the Duke, and you wish he'd break the silence. He does.

"I believed we started things off on the wrong foot," he begins, "My name is Gilbert Beilschmidt." You reply in turn, and the awkward air lifts. You see Queen Elizaveta dancing with a Japanese noble, both of them laughing heartily. King Roderich is dancing with Duke Zwingli, both blushing deeply. Everyone around you seems happy, and you are shocked to realise that you are too, even though you're spending time with someone you hate.

Maybe you don't hate him. You hate his reputation, but you need to know someone to hate them, and you had never exchanged words with the Duke until today. As the dance wore on, and even after it stopped, you exchange more words, and you find that there is actually nothing to hate about this man at all.

He was just a bit unlucky with relationships, that's why he'd been in so many.

It was time to leave, but you weren't looking forward to it like you had been mere hours ago. You never wanted this night to end. He kissed you on the hand, and then on the cheek. You blush, and feel a faint fluttering in your chest. You open your mouth to say something, but he beats you to it.

"Although it got off to a rocky start, I enjoyed our time tonight," you nod in agreement, "and I'd like to see you again."

You don't know what to say to that, so you settle for an action instead. You fling your arms around his neck, and bury your face into his shoulder. It is then that you know what to say:

"_Me too."_


End file.
